


A Stoic Mind and a Bleeding Heart

by Zoa



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 11th Doctor, Gen, Post-Ponds, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoa/pseuds/Zoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The main title and chapter titles are taken from the Mumford & Sons song Reminder. The characters of Sherlock and the Doctor do not belong to me. </p><p>No copyright infringement intended.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Don't Let Me Darken Your Door

**Author's Note:**

> The main title and chapter titles are taken from the Mumford & Sons song Reminder. The characters of Sherlock and the Doctor do not belong to me. 
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.

~ Prologue ~

 

Sherlock turned away as John walked out of view. He had heard the plea, John’s request to return. He hadn’t missed the slight limp returning to his friend’s gait. Even though he had been prepared, he hadn’t really considered how much agony his friends and brother would go through. He walked on through the cemetery, deep in thought. His attempt at saving his friends lives had been successful, yet now it seemed they were even worse off. He tried to distract himself, but he always went back to this conundrum. The people he loved were hurting, and it was his fault. 

+++++

The Doctor took his time in walking through the park back to the TARDIS. He should have known visiting Amy and Rory’s home was a bad idea; he did know it was a bad idea. They were gone, and no matter how many times he wished it to be untrue, the fact was still there. He sighed as he unlocked the TARDIS and stepped in.  
“No more. I won’t, I can’t, care anymore. It only ruins them.” He told the air. Of course his words were met with silence, the eerie quiet that he hated so much. Everyone left him. He was destined to be alone and he should just realize that. He was a scourge, a disease to innocent people, and that had to stop.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

~ Chapter One: Don't Let me Darken Your Door ~

The girl stopped in her tracks at the strange noise she heard over the sound of the gulls, the waves not even covering the wheezing coming through the air. She looked behind her, watching with wide eyes as an apparition appeared. An apparition of a blue box. Very quickly, she turned and ran for her little village, a small town in Dover, by the sea. Sprinting to her home she barged into the little kitchen, her mother dropping the cooking spoon she had been using for dinner. The girl paid no heed though, running up the staircase to her room and closing the door. She hurried to her small wooden dresser, one her father had made for her, and opened her jewelry box. There it was. Tenderly tucked away in a handkerchief in corner. She breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the tiny bundle, slipping it into her dress pocket. There it would stay until the right time, until The Two knocked on her family’s cottage door.

+++++

As Sherlock reached the top of the hill, he frowned deeply. When he had passed that way only an hour before, the field had been empty. Now it held an upright box with Police on it in black letters. He stepped closer, naturally intrigued. A blue police-box suddenly appearing in a Dover field was a little strange, to say the absolute least. He walked around the box, moving to the front and standing directly before the door. He stared at it for ten minutes, thoughts and ideas whirling through his mind. Something drew him closer to the door, his hand reaching out for the latch. Just as he felt the cold metal meet his skin, it jerked open and a gangly man with a bow-tie ran into him.  
“Oh! Hallo,” he looked Sherlock up and down, rather disconcerted at meeting the person he was looking for in the field he had chosen specifically for its discrete location. It made him realize Fate was a real thing, which annoyed him to no end.  
Sherlock frowned, more thoughts careening through his head. “Who are you?” he asked the stranger.  
“I’m the Doctor.” The words he had spoken so many times before. Yet for some reason, it hurt this time.  
“The Doctor?” Sherlock repeated quizzically, knowing there was something behind this cryptic reply. This man, he wasn’t from England, even though he had a native accent, Sherlock knew he was not indigenous. “The Doctor of what?”  
The Doctor frowned irritably. Why was it some of them never got it right?  
“No, just the Doctor,” he corrected shortly, stepping forward and closing the TARDIS door securely. He gave Sherlock the once over again and then started off for the village. Stopping when he noticed the absence of his new acquaintance walking beside him.  
“Well, come along Sherlock, we’ve got work to do.”


	2. I Won't Hear You Cry When I'm Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor explains to Sherlock how and why he needs his help.

“How did you know who I was?” Sherlock ran to catch up to the Doctor. He strode beside him, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. The Doctor looked at Sherlock out of the corner of his eye.  
“You’re not exactly disguised, you know,” the Doctor pointed out. “Signature coat, scarf, hair… arrogant attitude” he wiggled his fingers airily at Sherlock, which elicited an eyebrow raise from the consulting detective.  
“How did you find me?” was Sherlock’s next question, conceding the previous point to this stranger. “I made sure not leave a trace of where I was going.”  
The Doctor took a breath, preparing himself for the explanation he was about to give, stopping to look Sherlock in the eye. “I have a… a thing. It’s a detector of sorts, finds people. Invented it myself,” he said, pausing as he straightened his bow tie with pride. “Anyway,” he quickly continued. “I just type in the name of the person I want to find and there you have it!” he grinned. Sherlock raised an eyebrow.  
“If you have such a device, then why do you need me?” he asked, the lack of logic surrounding this man irritating him.  
“The TARDIS key,” the Doctor said with a sigh, as if Sherlock should have known this already. “Haven’t you been listening?”  
“You haven’t said anything about a key,” Sherlock retorted, narrowing his eyes.  
“Didn’t I?” the Doctor frowned and looked at Sherlock twice before continuing. “Well, you see I gave the TARDIS key to a boy and now I’ve lost them both,” he shook his head, exasperated with himself.  
“You misplaced a boy?” Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly. The evidence was growing that this man was insane.  
“Well, not exactly misplaced,” the Doctor did loose air quotes around the word. “But, ah, sort of forgotten where I left him. Or rather when I left him…”  
Sherlock immediately caught the usage of ‘when’ and stared at the Doctor in confusion. “What do you mean when?”  
“At what point in time I left the boy,” the Doctor looked at Sherlock reproachfully. “I can’t go back and get him if I don’t know when I left him, can I?” he started walking again. Sherlock stared after him for a minute, trying to wrap his mind around the deduction about what this man was saying.  
“Doctor!” he called, hurrying to catch up, his long strides easily matching the other’s quick gait. “You’re a time traveler? Is that what you’re saying?” he said, watching the Doctor’s face carefully. That face lit up with smile of satisfaction at Sherlock’s words.  
“Indeed. You’re as good as they say you are,” he clapped Sherlock on the back with a grin. Sherlock wasn’t exactly feeling as pleased with himself at finally unraveling the confusing, tangled up yarn of the Doctor’s sentences as usual.  
“But Doctor, time travel is an impossibility,” he said, stopping once again. The little town was now in view, the clock tower just striking the hour of three. The Doctor looked at the village for a moment before turning to Sherlock with a serious look on his face.  
“If I am not a time traveler, then I could I know that as a boy you used to play on an imaginary pirate ship?”  
Sherlock’s normally stoic face betrayed his shock. No one, not even Mycroft as far as Sherlock understood, knew he liked to actually play a pirate as a boy.  
“Yes,” the Doctor continued, smiling kindly. “In that attic above your room. I must say, it seemed like jolly fun. I met some pirates once. They’re not all bad,” he mused, becoming lost in his memories. “They became space pirates!” he grinned.  
Sherlock stared at him, unsure of what to think. Either this man was seriously disturbed or telling the truth or both. He decided to humour this strange man called the Doctor. “All right,” he said slowly, watching the Doctor closely again. “What is it exactly you wanted me to do?”  
“To help me find whoever has the TARDIS key,” the Doctor replied.  
“How did you come to lose it?” the detective asked, clasping his hands behind his back. The Doctor sighed and before answering he walked to the edge of the town, Sherlock following him. The Doctor managed to find a bench and sat down, watching some children play with a ball in the street. Sherlock sat next to him. “I was running, you see. It seems I’m always running from something,” the Doctor started his tale...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is still a work in progress and I hopefully will have it finished soon.


End file.
